But the collection of plaid shirts circa 1992 is still cool, right?

Do you watch What Not To Wear? I'm sure you're aware of the concept. I kind of have a love-hate relationship with that show. For someone who doesn't watch much television, I watch a LOT of What Not To Wear.

Some of the shows, the ones where they turn schlumpy women into beautiful butterflies, I love. I mean, you can tell those women are gorgeous, but they just need to update their style, or their body has changed and they don't know what to do with it, or whatever. And they're a tiny bit resistant, because who wants to be told that you look like an asshat? And that you've been looking that way for the past 10 years, and people are laughing at you. But they mostly embrace the change and end up looking fabulous.

But some of them I feel so conflicted about. The ones with women who have an extreme style, who have hair down to their knees or dress entirely in sequins or wear fairy wings and a lot of glitter. They're often young women, and as far as I'm concerned, they can pull it off. They don't have to impress top executives or try not to embarass their kids. Why wouldn't you let their freak flag fly? Why is it so fucking important that they look like everybody else?

Even the message they bludgeon people with every time is conflicted. "Dress homogenously so we can see the real you. Express your unique personality, but only within these RULES." The rebellious teenager inside me wants to rise up and punch these people in the throat. Fuck you, Stacy and Clinton, I'm totally wearing a suede hippie jacket with highland dancing shoes and I'm going to look HOT.

The other part of me, though, the broke schlumpy 35-year-old who has no idea how to dress to flatter all these bulges, really wants them to show up on my doorstep.

(That part wins.)

(Stacy and Clinton? I'm waiting.)

(And I promise to let you throw out the highland dancing shoes.)